


Der Letzte Tanz

by Miss_Spectre



Category: Elisabeth - Das Musical, Elisabeth - Levay/Kunze
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Blood and Injury, Death, Despair, F/M, Loneliness, Much blood, Self-Harm, Suicide, razor blade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 22:06:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10053467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Spectre/pseuds/Miss_Spectre
Summary: The last dance belongs to Death..





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Der letzte Tanz, der letzte Tanz_  
>  Gehört allein nur mir!  
> Den letzten Tanz, den letzten Tanz  
> Tanz ich allein mit dir! __

The light in the room was dim. There was only a candle burning on my table. Dust was dancing in the flickering light of the small flame.  
It was late and I was alone in my room. Franz was out for the night. I didn't mind at all. Finally some time tot be alone. My ladies-in-waiting had been scurrying around me all day.  
It felt good to be alone at last. I had put on a white night gown and was now sitting on a chair in front of my table, in my hand a razor I had taken from Franz. The light of the candle got reflected by the razor's blade. It was silver steel, very sharp.  
Slowly I averted my gaze from the razor and looked at my arm. There were four small cuts which had begun to heal already. They were placed neatly next to each other. Again my eyes wandered over the razor in my hand.

My grip around the handle of the razor tightened, I slowly moved the blade over my arm. A stinging pain shot through me, only for a moment. There was a fresh wound, the blood looked incredibly red on my pale skin. Another movement of my hand and another wound. The pain felt good, relieving. A soft sigh escaped my mouth. It felt good to feel something. Even if it was just the pain each cut evoked. I wanted to feel more. Again I dragged the blade over my arm. The pain seemed to feel better with every new cut. Another sigh left my lips. Slowly I picked up a piece of cloth and brushed off the blood, then I pressed the blade against my arm again.  
Another wound, more blood that came gushing out. It felt good, so good. I felt tempted to cut it all open, to cut my arm so often that I couldn't even count all of the wounds anymore. And all the blood. There would be blood everywhere. I would feel so much.  
“What a strange thought it is, isn't it?” a ghostly voice asked from the darkest corner of my room.  
I whirled around. But it was too dark as that my eyes could make out the silhouette of the one who had spoken. Still the blade was pressing against my skin. It didn't feel as cold anymore as it had at first. It felt almost soothing.  
“Strange how one can feel alive whilst life itself is leaving ones body,” the stranger had stepped out of the shadows now. He was clad all in black, white hair was surrounding his face, flowing down to his shoulders. He looked ghostly. And he was - a ghost of my past.  
“You!” I gasped.  
“I told you, we would meet again. To dance – one last dance,” he smirked at the thought of reminding me of the promise he'd given me on my wedding day. He stepped closer and took the razor from my hand, grabbing my arm with his other hand. I could feel the coldness that he was radiating through the black silk gloves he wore.  
He gently placed the blade of the razor along my vein. His eyes met mine, they were piercing blue.  
What was there to loose? After Rudolf had left me alone with his father and the political unrest Austria was facing. My chamber maids that were constantly checking on me, judging my diets and habits of tracking my weight. Franz was only caring for politics, seeming unmoved by the death of our only son. Almost as if he hadn't expected anything else from Rudolf. I felt lost. There was no real place for me. I didn't know what was expected from me and how I could feel these uncertain expectations. I was tired. Yes, perhaps even tired of life.  
Death's eyes were still locked with mine. In his presence I felt calm.  
“Do you want to dance, Elisabeth?” he asked, a tender smile on his lips.  
“Yes,” I whispered.  
The pain was sharp. And it didn't leave after Death had put the razor aside. He took my right hand with his left one and gently wrapped his right arm around my waist, holding me. I laid my left hand on his shoulder, registering the blood that was running down my arm and dripping onto the ground. It felt hot, the pain was burning, but there was a soothing feeling to it.  
Death began to lead me, it was a slow dance. My eyes found his again. The blue seemed less icy now.  
“It feels good to hold you in my arms after all, Elisabeth,” Death whispered, his cold breath was rolling over my cheek, his lips brushing over my skin.  
“It feels good, yes,” I murmured, feeling the cold Death was emitting embracing me. Only the blood running down my arm felt still hot. We danced in silence, my heart was beating faster and faster. He lead me with slow, steady steps. A gentle dance, loving, even. Death's coldness was surrounding us completely. I was feeling light-headed, I felt as if my legs wouldn't carry me for much longer.

Death had slowly lead me over to my bed. We were standing in front of it now. My breath was going fast and Death let go of my right hand, I put it on his shoulder, clinging onto him as I felt myself getting more and more dizzy. Death was gently caressing my cheek, the coldness of his hand seemed to crawl under my skin.  
“You're beautiful, my empress,” he whispered. His lips were brushing over my cheek again. He was holding me close to himself now, his right hand laying on the back of my head. I was looking at Death, trying not to give in to the feeling of dizziness and numbness that was spreading in my head.  
“Thank you,” I whispered, meeting his cold blue eyes.  
“The pleasure is all mine, Elisabeth,” Death answered, his voice was tender, he was pulling me even closer.  
Then his lips found mine. They were cold, but soft. His tongue was gently tracing over my lips, parting them and gently playing with my tongue. His kiss was taking my breath away and I melted into it, closing my eyes. Everything got dark. After all these years I was giving in to Death.

**Author's Note:**

> well, well, well.. kinda dark, I guess.  
> I feel really sorry cause some poor chamber maid has to clean up the mess Death and Sisi made - just imagine what the ground must look like after they were _dancing_ whilst her wrist was slit!
> 
> It's inspired by this video _https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dEBj3NBPwx4 ___


End file.
